Kings
by The Gray Maze
Summary: A collection of one-shots centered on the Oni King and his Craftknight. Because there's too much Sugar. Some Rasho/Pratty, but mostly gen.
1. Infant

**Title:** Infant  
**Summary:** Short discussion on Pratty's infant ways.  
**A/N:** 'Nother collections of ficlets and such because I feel like it. And because there are no Rasho fics and it upsets me.  
**295 words**

"Rasho?"

"What?"

Pratty turned to him with a thoughtful frown. "What kind of baby was I?"

"… why are you asking me?"

"Well, you said you saw me as a baby, so I was just wondering." She smiled sheepishly. "Never mind, I was just thinking."

There was a pregnant pause.

"You were… loud." He remarked. "Almost as loud as the oni children at home. You kept grabbing everything as well. It drove Shintetsu insane; however, he found it amusing when it was someone else." A peeved frown crossed his face that Pratty didn't miss.

A slow smile grew on her own. "Hehe…"

His frown grew deeper. "What are you laughing at!"

"Hehe… I did something to you didn't I? And father made fun of you." She covered her mouth to stifle another giggle, but her eyes were still narrowed mischievously at him.

Rasho scowled and folded his arms over his chest. His armor clanked softly. Pratty kept her expecting gaze firmly on him, waiting patiently for an answer.

"My horn." He said finally.

"I grabbed your horn?"

"No—you damn well tried to yank it out of my head!"

His almost petulant tone only furthered his partner's amusement. He couldn't help comparing her expression to the one adorning Shintetsu's face when Amariss finally got her daughter to slacken her grip. It made him feel nostalgic… the sight of a pale hand reaching for his forehead brought him back to the present.

"What do you think you're doing?" Rasho drifted backwards, glaring at her warily. "That is not a removable object."

Pratty's impish face suggested that she took that as a challenge and, with the promise of trouble gleaming at him from those eyes, Rasho decided that perhaps he should forgo sleep for a few days.

"Hehe…"


	2. Fruits of Opinion

**Title**: Fruits of Opinion  
**Summary:** Sanary, men, feminism, and a discussion that might be explosive, but Razzy butts in.  
**A/N:** ... No appearance, but he's still involved. Had this swimming in the head for awhile.

Sanary sat cross-legged on the platform in the labyrinth. Then she chewed her hair. Then she dropped that and tapped her fingers on her thigh. Pratty watched her with a measure of bewilderment and surprising patience (which was mostly borne of curiosity, as always).

Then Sanary, rather abruptly, stood up and spun around in quick succession, pointing an accusing finger at Pratty.

"Your guardian beast is a king!" she announced.

Rather unsure of where this outburst came from, Pratty blinked and gave a tentative "Yes?" in response.

Her friend looked aggravated and began muttering something about 'monarchy' and 'male oppression' which caused some understanding to dawn on Pratty, who decided that this weed needed to be nipped in the bud, so to speak, before Sanary went on a rant about how women would rise and conquer all, really.

So, without another thought on the matter, she blurted, "I'm a king too!" which in retrospect sounded just a little awkward.

"_What_?"

Just a little.

Sheepishly Pratty scratched her head and hurried to explain. "I mean, we're equals, we agreed?"

"You're a girl."

"Well, gender doesn't matter right?" the craftlord asked. "Just the power." She added, paraphrasing Rasho's speech to her.

Sanary looked relatively affronted. "What are you talking about! Of course gender matters!" she clenched a fist and looked ready to burst.

Pratty had a choice to make at this point and that was whether to

A. Try again to placate her friend—risking making her angrier, which was the more likely outcome

Or

B. Run, which would make her angry anyway…

"What about Razzy?" Pratty asked quickly.

"Razzy's a girl." Sanary pointed out.

"She's a tomboy." Pratty said. "And, um, aren't you technically considered one too?"

The temperature metaphorically spiked and Pratty began a strategic retreat. Her parting words, which might've or mightn't have been wise were:

"Wouldn't girls taking over and becoming dominant over boys be just as unfair to the world?"

She beat it without waiting on an answer.

**:::**

Razzy plopped down beside Pratty, who was hiding behind a flower pot. She had a banana.

"Sanary's mad." She said.

Pratty wasn't surprised.

"Where's Rasho anyway?" she asked. "What does he think?"

"I didn't bother asking." Pratty said. "He just finds Sanary's opinions funny or annoying." She paused. "Or annoying and sometimes funny?" A shrug.

"What do you think?" the banana was being carefully removed from the restraints of its peel.

"It's Sanary's opinion." Pratty replied. "I don't really think gender's a big deal, and besides, women aren't really oppressed as she thinks they are. She acts like we're all still confined to the kitchen and denied swords" She muttered. "And her sister's a craftlord! It's not unfair! Even if the numbers are uneven, that's just how is at the time depending on who quits or dies or gets recruited." Pratty paused for a breath and glanced over at her friend for a response. "What do you think?"

Razzy pulled out another banana. "I like these better than apples, don't ya think, sis?"

"..."

"But they're both still giving nutrients to the world." She grinned and handed the fruit to Pratty.

Pratty thought then that maybe Razzy was a genius.

**:::**

She went back to the labyrinth later and sat down next to the redhead, who didn't look at her until an apple was dropped in her lap. She threw an equally startled, wary, and bewildered look at Pratty, who merely took out the banana and began eating. Sanary stared at the fruit for a long time before bringing it to her lips and biting into it.

No further discussion was needed.


	3. Stray

**Title:** Stray  
**Summary:** Pratty finds a stray summon. A cute one. Rasho does not approve.  
**A/N:** Took the summon from Swordcraft 2. It was cute. This was just a whim though, so... it's not that great.

The newly minted Craftlord of Iron took an evening walk to escape her mother's endless teasing and her guardian beast's accompanying laughter. A storm was coming up but the wind wasn't strong yet, so she kept to a slow pace with the intent of enjoying the warm gusts while they were simply that—gusts.

The breeze brought with it the salty smell of the ocean, which she inhaled greedily. Even being surrounded by it everyday she never tired of it. The metallic tang of steel mingled with the smoke of the fires in the Silver Guild nearby. The sounded of hammers clanging echoed in her ears alongside the caws of seagulls and the wails of a drowning creature.

Pratty paused on that last thought and looked down into the water. Her eyes widened as she located the source of the noise and, without further ado, she jumped in after it.

**:::**

Amariss looked up to the sound of the door opening and tossed down her dish rag. The sight of her daughter soaked to the bone had her raising an eyebrow in question.

"Did the storm come and just hit you or did your scooter capsize again?"

"Um…" Pratty looked down and Amariss noticed a small bundle in her arms. "Do we have extra blankets? And maybe some milk or broth or something?"

A small white head peeked out and whined softly.

It was a fox.

Wearing a robe.

Several tails unfurled from beneath Pratty's arms and Amariss recognized it for what it was at the same time that Rasho floated in, saw it, and identified it.

"What the hell are you doing with an oni fox?"

**:::**

"Can I keep it?" she asked.

"Maybe" Amariss's reply was almost drowned out by Rasho's vehement "NO!"

Pratty glared at her guardian beast before looking back at her mother. "Maybe?"

"Can you handle having a pet, is what I mean." Amariss said. "Especially since it's not only a fox, but from Silturn."

Rasho, floating around the teen, gave the creature a dirty look.

"And if you can convince Rasho." she added.

"_No_." The oni insisted.

Pratty once again directed her glare onto him. "_Why not_?" she demanded.

"Becuase _those things_ are little demons!"

"You're a demon!"

"That's different!"

"Just because you can talk? That's discrimination against the mute!"

"What? That's not what I meant!"

Wisely and with a comely smile on her ever-calm face, Amariss slipped out of the room to do some much needed cleaning.

**:::**

Dinner was quiet save for the clinging of forks against plates. Amariss was the only one who seemed unaffected by the tension hovering over the table. Rasho was alternating between glaring at the fox and eating. Pratty was alternating between glaring at Rasho, feeding the fox, and eating. The fox was just gratefully eating. It had dried off and fluffed up under Pratty's careful attentions. Suffice to say, the beast was enjoying her company immensely, though the presence of the king was making him nervous.

"He's shaking, Rasho." Pratty finally ground out. "Stop giving him those looks, you're scaring him."

"You're not keeping it." he maintained.

Pratty abruptly stood from her seat, fork clattering to the floor in her haste. "You're just _jealous_!" She snapped.

She made a quick retreat to her bedroom just as Amariss finally looked up at her daughter's partner. Her eyes opened, slightly.

"_Rasho..._" The warning lilt in her normally warm voice made even the seasoned warrior shiver.

**:::**

He floated up the stairs with a scowl twisting his face. There was a bowl full of shredded chicken in one hand and a bowl of fresh water in the other. Amariss' stern but quiet rebuttal was still echoing in his head. She never yelled, but her lectures always stuck. Memories of her scolding Bron surfaced and his lips twitched into a smile, briefly, before he remembered that he had just been subject to a scholding and now was carrying food to that... fox.

Rasho entered the room to find Pratty playing with the creature. The little white fox was on its back, writhing under the hand rubbing its belly. Pratty looked up at the sound of her door closing and frowned at her guardian beast, hoving protectively over her new charge. Rasho set the bowls on the floor.

"He can't go home, you know." Pratty said. "What's he supposed to do if I kicked him out?"

The king spared another glance at the fox and, without a word, left the room.

**:::**

When the next morning came around with no fox in her room, Pratty instantly blamed Rasho and, in a slight panic, raced downstairs. Only to stop abruptly, skid several feet, and not once take her eyes off the sight of the king _playing_ with her fox. He had a strip of meat clamped between two fingers and was making the fox work for it.

"You can hover can't you, imp? Get in the air and _take it_ if you want it so bad!"

There was a reluctant smirk on his face as the stray summon barked and whined at him. Supressing a snigger, Pratty slipped into the kitchen to find her mother laying breakfast on the table. Amariss looked up with a smile (that was almost a smirk, really), and nodded towards the other room.

"Apparently you can keep it." She commented.

"Yay!"

"What? _NO_!"


	4. Guardian Beast

**Title:** Guardian Beast  
**Summary:** "I have been summoned here by a Craftknight, again..."  
**A/N:** Some quotes directly from the game. This is for that Isis reviewer. I just wrote this now... I don't have anything prewritten and hidden away, and I need to refresh my memory by playing through again to write more.

Wystern. A settlement with a unique scent that he immediately picked up on. It was the smell of the ocean, salty and sharp, melded with the tang of steel and bitterness of smoke. He knew it before his vision even cleared to reveal an ironwrought room and the presense of multiple humans. One being Bron. _That Bron_, the rotten lecher. So he had been summoned to be someone's guardian yet again...

He was a bit peeved. However, it would be too much to say that he was angry. Rather, it was a strong sense of exasperation that filled him. Though he had not been tending to anything particularly important (indeed, his kingdom had been in an almost frustrating state of peace and quiet as of late), he had not wanted to rely on the partnership of a snot-nosed child to get into a couple brawls that his men could provide well enough.

Speaking of which, exactly who was this dopey faced girl that so shamelessly gawked at him? His prospective partner? Certainly not.

A waspish banter with the now pot-bellied Bron revealed her to be the daughter of his previous knight. Pratty, was it? This new piece of information colored a new perspective.

Iron gray hair... Amariss's face... those navy eyes... the eccentric set of attire...

Her nose scrunched as her eyes narrowed at him. "...Why are you looking at me that way?"

He observed her a moment longer before leaning back in satisfaction, allowing a broad smirk to crawl onto his face. He crossed his arms.

"You were an infant the last time I laid eyes upon you, but now you are a beautiful young woman." He nodded to himself. "I'm going to be your partner, and I'll make you the best Craftknight in the world."

A small part of him ached at the thought that Shintetsu wouldn't be here to watch him do it.

Perhaps an hour later they snuck onto a ship and looked out at the water from over the railings. He had almost forgotten the beauty of the ocean under moonlight. Gently he lowered himself to the floor and landed just to feel the boat rocking beneath his feet as he listened to this child's questions and promised answers... bit by bit. He would draw it out. There would be time for all the stories he could tell her. There _would_ be time, and more, as they made their own stories to tell someone else sometime.

She smiled up at him shyly, her youth evident in her soft face, and thanked him. "If you're going to tell me the story, that means you're going to be my partner. So, I thank you!"

His own smile was both comfused and amused in response to her earnestness.

This girl was going to be every bit a handful as her father, alas.


	5. The Terms

**Title:** The Terms  
**Summary:** Mother's have rules and guidelines. Amariss doesn't want to need them in this matter.  
**A/N:** Been working on this one for awhile now. Mostly just a sentence or so at a time, but then it was 6am on Sunday and I didn't want to go back to bed. Hopefully I got Rasho alright. I tried to balance the formal and the childish sides of him that were shown in the game; since he's with Amariss I didn't really focus on the roughness. The implications about Amariss were thrown in for amusement. It was a thought I had when I was bored and playing "Wouldn't it be funny if..."

Rasho knew that something was amiss the moment he saw her smile. And it wasn't that she was smiling that was unusual. Amariss usually had a pleasant expression. This smile was not necessarily one of those pleasant expressions. It was a little sharper. Her eyes squinted a little tighter. Her lips were stretched to reveal just a sliver of white, the tips of what could be mistaken for fangs. His mind rapidly went over anything and everything that he could have possibly done to upset her. He came up with nothing. However, she would not be directing that look at him if he were not the cause.

"Lady Amariss?"

The smile became wider. It worried him.

"Why don't you have a seat, Rasho?" She prompted, gesturing at the kitchen table. "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

He sat, knowing full well that it was not a question and that there would be trouble if he declined. The kingly part of his mind protested. He shut it up with memories of what she did to Shintetsu when he protested her subtle control maneuvers. Pride had no place before this woman if she were even mildly upset.

Amariss daintily pulled out a chair across from him and sat down, pushing her legs to one side and clasping her hands over the table. Silenced reigned for several moments that made him feel a childish urge to fidget. Was she even human? Her scent said she was. The way she could dominated even the strongest willed men with such simple actions would forever make him doubt though. Common sense would have him wait for her to break the silence, since she had called him out. However, it was becoming suffocating, and who knew what kind of trouble Pratty would get into with him gone even briefly.

"What did I do?" He asked.

Her smile widened. "Rasho." She began. "You were my husband's trusted partner and friend, and now my daughter's. You've protected both of them to the best of your ability." She tilted her head. "So I trust you fully, I hope you know, but this matter is a little different."

"Ah..."

Why was he saying that like he understood? _What_ matter? He wasn't aware that there was anything different going on. What was with that smile? Amariss waited patiently for Rasho's confused thoughts to die into a slow simmer before continuing.

"She's too old for a curfew, and I never really enforced such things regardless."

Wait. She was talking about Pratty?

"So I won't include that in my list of expectations." She nodded once, smile not wavering. "And because you are a king, though you sometimes do not act like it, I fully believe that you will treat her well."

His thoughts halted entirely for a moment and he took that chance to reevaluate the situation. Did Amariss think... no... but did she really?

"Lady Amariss," he paused to think over his wording, "are you under the impression that I am... _courting_ your daughter?"

A slender hand came up to cover her mouth, stifling a light chuckle. "No, Rasho. I am under the impression that my _daughter_ is courting _you_."

Despite knowing that it was Amariss in front of him, and that he should probably restrain his outburst, he couldn't help the incredulous "_WHAT?"_ that he blurted in response.

"She must really be fumbling it if you're surprised by my saying so." Amariss commented casually. "However, if you were sincerely oblivious, I must now ask after your intention."

_Intentions_? What _intentions_? The girl was sixteen! He was decades older! His intention was to discourage hers, of course!

Amariss, as if sensing this train of thought, opened her eyes. Rasho stopped short at the sight of those red tinted irises. Oh she _had_ to not be human. Her scent was lying.

"If you break my daughter's heart you'll be in trouble." She warned; her voice had deepened slightly at that statement and returned to a warmer, more amused tone, for the next. "She's never been interested in anyone before, after all. And your presence seems to intimidate anyone interested in her."

Rasho had to say that Amariss seemed pleased about that. A little _too_ pleased, if you will. And while he could understand a mother's desire to keep her precious daughter away from obnoxious teenage boys, he couldn't quite get a grasp on why she was so damnably _happy_ that Pratty was into him. He told her so.

"You've been with us for awhile now, Rasho. One could say you're part of the family already." Her voice was cheerier than it had been all evening.

And _of course_ he'd been around for awhile. He was an _oni_. They tend to stay around for awhile.

"Age gap." He pointed out.

"What of it?" Nonchalant and dismissive.

Oh, well then, "I am the king of an entirely different race from an entirely different dimension." He offered.

"Humans are adaptable." She returned sagely.

Her eyes opened again, this time not as an intimidation method, but rather to show him her inhumanly colored eyes. Then they were closed and she was talking before he could even fire off a question.

"Please take good care of my daughter." Amariss said softly, standing.

She was situated at the counter with a knife and an onion within moments, just in time for the front door to slam open, and he briefly marvelled at her sixth sense for her daughter. The sound of Pratty dragging in her water scooter followed, and the girl in question entered the kitchen soon after. She was out of breath and dressed in Sanary's clothes. Rasho raised his brow in question.

"I... Kenon tripped over Sanary." She said lamely. "And we all fell in the water."

Teenage boys...

"Sanary yelled at him, and he kept apologizing, but he was smiling, so I don't think he meant it." She rambled. "He didn't even explain how it happened, beyond claiming that he tripped."

Rasho stood from the table and turned to her. "Change your clothes." He ordered.

Pratty blinked at the sudden change in demeanor.

"We're going for a walk before dinner." He floated out of the kitchen.

Pratty turned to her mother in question, only to find the woman humming obliviously and peeling a potato. There was a lingering feeling in the air that she couldn't quite place.

"Go for a walk, dear." Amariss didn't turn around as she said it, and the way she said it sent a shiver down Pratty's spine.

"What happened?" She asked suspiciously.

Pratty sensed, rather than saw, the smile that stretched across her mother's face.

"I just helped you out a little."

The implications took a moment to set in, and when they did, Pratty stood there gaping in mild horror and embarassment.

"Weren't you going to change?" Amariss prompted.

"Mother! ...You!" She turned around and raced upstairs.

A thick _chop_ echoed through the kitchen as the knife came down on the potato, the sound contrasting the tiny smile on Amariss's face. It was just too damnably happy.


	6. What Friends Are For

**Title:** What Friends Are For  
**Summary:** In which Sanary disapproves of pining and alleged unrequited romantic drama. And then does something about it.  
**A/N:** Ah... it's been awhile since I played so I dearly hope that my portrayal of Sanary isn't alarmingly off. I can't find get to the game right now to replay... but I finally finished this... over two thousand words here, which is rather good for me... hope you enjoy it!

One hour and twenty-two minutes of Sanary's morning had been dedicated to a scouring of Pratty's usual haunts and, having failed to find her in any of these, a further hour and three minutes were allotted for the interrogation of various people and one oni king. The lack of fruit born from her relentless pursuit of her best friend left her impatiently tapping a boot-clad foot on the steal platform of an outlying section of Wystern, face set in a determined scowl. Internally, her mind was racing through every possible nook and cranny for Pratty to be tucked away in, and with Pratty's petite build, the information to process was staggering. More cynical thoughts-_ she could have been kidnapped, she could be drowning after tripping into the ocean, she could be involved in a conspiracy of frighteningly dangerous importance_- were quick to cross her and slightly slower to leave her.

Quite suddenly she stopped tapping and released an explosive sigh. She rolled her neck to free up a few pops and cracks and, with her eyes turned skywards, caught a flash of black and pink.

What followed was a rush of annoyance, relief, concern, and appreciation for serendipity. Not necessarily in that order and not quite in equal proportions. However, concern and annoyance won the battle of dominance of her emotions and she hurried to confront her wayward friend. Her friend who better have a good explanation for hiding away, forcing the redhead to chase her for an estimated three hours.

**:-:**

The morose expression on the young Craftlord's face was intense enough to cause Sanary to pause and mentally debate the wisdom of unleashing a tirade upon the other girl. The last steps to take her to Pratty's side were decidedly more cautious, and certainly quieter. She sat down gingerly, adjusting herself to reasonable comfort on the metal scaffold.

"Pratty?" She prompted.

Pratty barely twitched in response. Sanary felt briefly awkward and shuffled closer, unsure of what else to do.

"Pratty?" She tried again.

Her friend tightened her arms around her legs and made a noise of acknowledgement.

"What's wrong?" Sanary sighed. "And if you tell me _'nothing'_ I'm going to push you off this platform."

Pratty's response was muffled by her kneecaps and Sanary had to strain her ears to catch it. She sat back with an incredulous expression when her friend finished speaking.

"_No one_ is as hot as my sister." Sanary told her swiftly.

It was meant to be a reassuring comment, but Pratty slumped even further. Sanary resisted an urge to face palm, because that just wasn't the right thing to do in this situation. Though honestly, she didn't know herself what to do, really.

Not knowing what words to comfort to backtrack with, she asked instead: "What brought this on?"

Pratty reluctantly loosened her grip and let her legs stretch out. "I was just thinking..." She said.

Sanary waited for her to continue, but silence prevailed. "Well?" She prodded.

"Rasho told me before that he'd tell me more stuff when I was as hot as your sister." Pratty mumbled.

The redhead twitched at the mention of the oni, but the disbelief filtering through her at the rest of Pratty's sentence overcame her annoyance.

"That can't be all." She deadpanned.

Pratty shrugged. "I was just thinking about it today."

"Why?" Sanary asked. "What happened?"

"I just took a walk with Rasho and when I got home, I remembered that." She said.

Oh... could it be... _no_. Sanary's thoughts took a sudden turn before she could quell them, even as she tried to placate herself with orders to find out more and not jump to conclusions. But it would explain some things… but no, she had to confirm a little more, but all the evidence was there already in the past!

Wait…

"What kind of walk?" Sanary asked slowly.

Pratty gave her a bewildered look. "A walk. Rasho and I always go for walks. Well, he floats usually, but..." She trailed off, seeing a glint come to Sanary's eyes.

"What happened on this walk?"

Pratty's confusion increased tenfold at the suddenly eager and urgent tone of voice Sanary had adopted.

"We talked a bit, and he told a few stories about what he and my father had done in various areas, but mostly we just walked." She shrugged.

Sanary hummed as she looked over her friend again; she took note of the downcast air she was giving off. Pratty seemed totally stumped for why she was so upset over a single, possibly joking, comment that her partner had made a little over a year ago. It made a suspicious sounding chuckled worm its way out of her mouth before she could stop it. And the ominous _fufufu_ that came from the magenta haired craftknight went a long way in replacing Pratty's funk with wariness.

"Sanary?" Pratty questioned.

"Don't worry, Pratty." Sanary assured her. "We'll fix this. That's what friends are for, right?"

She disapproved of senseless pining. If a woman wanted something, she should damn well go after it, and if Pratty couldn't do it on her own, well... two girls were more definitely more tenacious than one. Sanary grinned.

"Let's go!"

**:-:**

Rasho had good instincts. It was something that any decent warrior should be able to boast, but Rasho felt that a century or so in the position of the king of Mt. Gouki offered up the right to boast of _very _good instincts. Instincts that were screaming at him, clamoring to ring the alarm bells, and generally just being very noisy. And he did not keep his royal status by ignoring these warnings. This was why he left Amariss's house and went out to search for his wayward knight. Sanary had been hunting long and hard for his master, and the fact that the iron haired girl was still nowhere to be seen caused him concern. Coupling Pratty's absence with his keen sense of something being amiss...

His face twisted into a frown as he forced down a wave of worry and he shook his head. As much as he teased the girl for her dependence on him, the fact was that she was a perfectly capable fighter and could last long enough without him to get back in one piece.

But what if her obstacle was not battle? What if the dopey little craftlord had managed to trip and fall into the ocean and, weighed down by her armor, fail to surface?

The thought made him jittery, so he moved quickly, deciding to try and rendezvous with Sanary. She was a little irritating, but for Pratty's sake he would work with the indignant feminist child.

Though he was at a loss as to how to search the ocean… if she did indeed fall.

**:-:**

Sanary's sudden, scarily cheerful demeanor was putting Pratty on edge, but she trusted her friend and obediently allowed herself to be guided down many ramps and steps. Even if the quiet _fufufu_ sounds were really getting to her by the time they had returned to the current 'ground level' of Wystern. Sanary released her wrist then and spun around, grinning madly.

"Pratty! You are a woman, you know!"

Wide navy eyes regarded her in surprise at the outburst. "Sana—" She was cut off.

"Are you a strong woman or are you a meek, Stone Age one!"

"Eh! I don't think stone age woman would have been—"

"A woman in this day and age…" She paused to clench a fist. "Should be strong and fight for what she wants!"

"I really don't see where this is go—"

Pratty released an explosive breath of air as Sanary's hands landed on her shoulders and shook her lightly. The other girl's eyes were _glinting_ and Pratty really, honestly did not like the look of it. It scared her just a bit. It scared and bewildered her.

"I'll make a real woman out of you yet, Pratty." Sanary told her solemnly. "So enough of this pining!"

The confusion must have been all too obvious on Pratty's features, for the vibrant haired girl in front of her slapped a palm against her own face and sighed loudly. The gesture made the youngest Craftlord feel a little sheepish, perhaps a little disappointed in herself, even, and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why her friend was upset in the first place. Though, she hadn't been entirely sure of why _she_ had been upset earlier, so she guessed that this was just a day for feeling upset in general. Though, as always, it seemed that Sanary was dead set on break the mould, for she was kicking the ground and grumbling, bringing her determined look back from whatever setback Pratty's lack of appropriate reaction had caused.

"Don't sit around hoping he'll notice you on his own, like a wimp would do!" Sanary ordered. "You need to stomp up to him and tell him straight!"

The direct approach still seemed to leave Pratty at a loss, though some realization was beginning to dawn on her. Her navy eyes were widening in disbelief. Sanary allowed herself a smug smirk and crossed her arms, leaning forward to get right in her friend's face.

"I really hate romantic drama, so we're going to get this right and quick."

The ill-omened tone sent a shiver down Pratty's spine in a way that no winter wind could match, and with it, she wondered meekly exactly who Sanary was trying to hook her up with, and why she thought she needed to do so.

**:-:**

Rasho felt a very powerful sense of relief at seeing Pratty intact. It was coupled with a feeling that portended nothing good. This confused him. Confusion irked him. The emotion never meshed well with his unwavering self-confidence that he had spent his lifetime building. His face twisted into a scowl.

"Where have you been?" He demanded.

Pratty drew back, looking a little embarrassed and Sanary stepped forward. She examined him intently and he glared back until she looked over her shoulder to his partner.

"Well? Don't you have something to say?" Sanary prodded.

One red eyebrow slowly rose at the question. The other joined it upon seeing the range of emotions that it brought to Pratty's face. Bewilderment followed closely by realization and complete, utter mortification. He'd never seen the girl so pink in the face.

"Sanary…" Pratty whispered. "You think… that's not… it's _not_." Her eyes were wide with disbelief. "It's _not_!"

Rasho glowered at them both. "What is it?" He asked. "Did either of you get yourselves involved in something foolish?"

Even Sanary paused at his tone, the one he often had to take with misbehaving soldiers who liked to slack off on their jobs. Pratty seemed to shrink, still looking mildly horrified at whatever it was that Sanary wanted.

"It totally is!" Sanary retorted. "And yes, she's being stupid."

"But I'm not—" She quailed under the force of Sanary's Look.

"What kind of Craftlord sits around moping about—stop flinching!—feeling sorry for herself?"

"_Sanary_, I don't know what was wrong with me earlier but it's _not _because I… because I…"

Rasho felt concern build up again when Pratty froze. If she started hyperventilating he was going to have to fetch Amariss and then he was going to get an earful, whether or not he believed himself to be at fault. He cautiously drifted closer to his partner and looked her over, feeling very uneasy at how colorful her face was and at her trembling.

"Are you ill, Pratty?" He asked. "Because if you are unwell and not telling anyone…" he trailed off to glare at Sanary, who had snorted.

"She's sick, alright." Sanary declared. "_Love_sick." And she promptly kicked Pratty in the back.

Rasho, who had been nose to nose with the assaulted girl, thusly received a mouthful of her youthful lips and was reminded very suddenly of just how old he was in comparison… just in time for a grocery shopping Amariss to walk by with a plastic bag of frozen fish dangling from one hand.

"Oh?" She paused and smiled widely at the trio.

"Lady Amariss—" Rasho choked; he steadied Pratty and backed away quickly.

Pratty simply stood there with her face in her hands, shaking her head, and even Sanary looked slightly worried when Amariss turned her attention to her.

"Good job, Sanary." She said simply.

The smiling brunette walked off humming with a new skip in her step. Her hair and the open mouth fish both bounced with the movement. The three of them watched her go in varying degrees of disbelief until the silence was broken by a smug chuckle.

"Success!" Sanary cheered. "Eh, Pratty?"

She had a hand over her mouth. "My first kiss… my first kiss…" She was on the verge of panic.

"Pratty?" She questioned. "Are you broken? Pratty?" She waved a hand in the distraught girls face.

It was caught by Rasho. "Sanary…" he hissed. "Fix her…" his expression was equally mystified and angry.

Behind him Pratty was still muttering, eyes wide and glassy. Rasho turned to stare at her in apprehension and that was when Sanary broke free and bolted. She paused at the bend of a corner.

"She'll be fine after awhile!" She called. "For sure! If not, you fix her!"

"You broke her!" Rasho retorted.

Sanary shrugged. "Eh, what are friends for?"

She vanished and, just like that, Rasho was left with a shell-shocked Pratty and an uncomfortable load of apprehension in his chest. He awkwardly took her elbow and tugged. Pratty stumbled along beside him.

"We should… go home, for now." He muttered.

He glided along the metal walkway in the direction that Amariss had gone just moments before, carefully guiding Pratty along and making sure she didn't fall into the water. There was no chance of her remembering how to swim in this state, and he wasn't entirely sure how Amariss would react to him carrying her soaking daughter home after what she had come across earlier, regardless of her _uncalled_ _for_ compliment of Sanary's equally inappropriate actions.

"My first kiss… my first…"


	7. Bargain Bin

**Title:** Bargain Bin**  
Summary:** A trip to Silturn—can Pratty match oni women in wit, strength, and sheer determination? You know damn well she can.

Silturn was a lively place. It was every bit like Pratty imagined and then some—Rasho was actually very good at describing things when he felt like it and certainly did his best to do justice to his own kingdom. Pratty was already in love with the world before she set foot in it. Now she was plotting ways to get Rasho to let her stay for much longer. She hummed happily while skipping over the red rocky ground. It was humid, but that didn't bother her any after living by the ocean all her life. The heat was a little stifling, but after a long soak in the miracle-working Oni Hot Springs she had decided to shed her long sleeved undershirt and black leggings, leaving her just in her zip up red dress and leather armor. Freshly bathed and feeling alive, now all she needed to do was get up the mountain and find Rasho to let him know she was actually here.

She giggled sheepishly and tried to think optimistically—that he wouldn't fly off the handle when she told him about the accident with the rookie summoner and the crazed beast and the spell that went a bit wrong. It was a hopeless endeavor. Rasho flipped out over everything. That was just the way he was and Pratty had the strongest feeling that he greatly enjoyed being dramatic. He had been around for a long time, so he certainly deserved to act as he pleased. Still, her eardrums were going to take a beating in the immediate future.

It would be worth it too.

Pratty never let her smile drop as she headed upward on a well worn path. Posts with varying decorations dotted the land every few feet. Feathers of all different colors, tufts of thick fur, and even some bones topped the wooden poles. She took her time admiring every last one of them, growing more excited by the second. If this was just the road up, just what with the kingdom around the peak look like? She picked up the pace, but it still took her at least half an hour to make it to the top. The view at the peak made her eyes sparkle in glee.

Rasho had to let her stay awhile. He had to.

A huge stretch of city stood before her. White, brown, and red buildings carved out of looming rocks peppered the mountain. Stalls with brightly colored wares lined the dirt streets that wove between the stone structures. Dozens upon dozens of people of varying shapes and sizes milled about, faces excited and anxious. There was a roar of noise, of many people speaking at once and trying to speak over one another. Pratty took two steps through the mammoth gates and stopped the woman rushing closest to her.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Rosy pink hair whipped her in the face when the oni turned and ruby eyes stared at her in disbelief. Pratty peripherally noticed the pair of axes crossed at the small of her back, the pale grey sharply contrasting against her exposed dusky skin. She took a moment to envy the woman's well-proportioned body before waiting patiently for a reply.

"It's a _sale_!" the oni told her. "_Everyone_ is here. There're beaded necklaces and quality weapons, clothing, _everything_. Where have you been?"

Pratty had perked immediately at the word 'sale' and her feminine instincts were squealing.

"Wystern," she answered absently. "A sale?"

The woman's brows furrowed in recognition. "Wystern?"

"A sale?" Pratty pressed.

She was suitably distracted.

"Ooh, you. Come on!" she growled.

An iron grip latched onto her wrist and dragged her straight into the heart of the crowd. There were more oni woman near the carts who had taken various creative liberties with their armor. The grey skinned beast manning the shop looked right at home in the midst of well-built bodies wrestling and bartering over swords and pauldrons or beads and hair pieces. A determined smile took the Craftlord's face at the sight. It was a sale!

"Back again, Madani?" the shopkeeper purred.

"Lecher!" the rosy haired oni barked. "The robe right there!"

Madani turned to Pratty with a frightening expression that she had only ever seen on her mother or Sanary while clothes shopping.

"You're adorable," she said bluntly. "Now come here!"

Together with her apparent new friend, Pratty dove into the chaos to banter, scream, and barter with the best of them.

"That's mine!" she shouted, pouncing on the vanishing fabric.

"Get another one, human wench!" the other snarled.

"This one isn't even your color!"

"It's not yours either!"

"What did you say?"

It escalated into an elbow to the cheek on one end and a booted foot to the gut on the other. Pratty jerked to the side and sent the other off-balance, hopping to right herself, but didn't let her get that far before head-butting her and taking the dress for herself.

"Don't rip the merchandise!" Madani called over the din.

"Do I look like an amateur?" Pratty retorted.

"You don't have the chest to pull that off!" the downed woman cut in.

"You don't have the _legs_." Pratty sharply replied.

"You wanna go!?"

"Bring it on!"

The following brawl, in the minds of the guards strolling at the street corners, was one of the most intense they'd had erupt at the annual market since the king's own mother battled a farmer's wife over the last scythe up for grabs in the weapons booth. In the end, when the hair—a startlingly mesmerizing mix of blue and silver-grey—started flying and the biting began, it was decided that interference might be needed before the woman drew the weapons at their hips. Attempts to pull them apart failed spectacularly. In the end, the king himself came down to investigate when he heard an alarmingly loud snap and crash.

The scene he walked in on was thus: his knight straddling the waist of the daughter of one of his guards, fists balled in her cobalt hair and elbows pressed tightly into her neck while said guard's daughter writhed and attempted to knee the navy eyed Craftlord in the back. Both had fierce snarls and were growling low in their throats like rabid hounds, neither willing to let up and neither seeming to acknowledge the animated mass around them that had parted almost absently for their leader.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?" he demanded.

Pratty leapt up immediately and skipped over. "Rasho!"

He sputtered at the cheerful greeting. "What are you doing here?"

"It's a sale!" she enthused.

The oni she had been wrestling with stood and dusted herself off. Then she picked up the dress that had fluttered to drape over the empty cart that had fallen in their struggle. Pratty adopted a look of utmost consternation, but Rasho's hand clamped down hard on her shoulder before she could take a step to restart their battle.

"You don't have the chest for that." he told her, yanking her away.

The other looked smug. Pratty looked offended. Madani offered up the pile in her left arm that she had been holding for the younger woman.

In the end, Rasho ended up paying for everything.


End file.
